Jolan hummed as he finished clacking his energetic fingers against the keyboard. Words zoomed across his page, the results flashing against the lens of his glasses. A prideful smile rested upon his face, soon to grow even wider.

"And..." He smacked his index finger against the enter key. "Done."

Relieved, Jolan sat back in his chair. He sighed at his hard work, then looked at the bottom corner of his square computer. It was a quarter past midnight, his room completely dark other than the light from the radiating screen. A crescent moon lingered in the night sky, uncontested by clouds and stars, a painting depicted beyond a shut window with fingerprints all over it.

After the marathon he had just raced, Jolan let his heart rhythmically and quickly beat as music to his ears. He loved the sound. Setting his eyes back on the screen, he leaned forward to scan what he had just written.

Technology and Us: What's Next?

It wasn't Jolan's best work, nor did he like it at all. But sometimes, the most cliche titles can be the most eye-catching. He read down the page, his eyes darting through every blur of a word. Just a quick revision as per usual. At the end of it, he nodded, quite satisfied with the rant. On weekends as such, he loved to stay up late and post nonsense relating to technology. The world was changing, as were the minds of many. He was one of the few to side with the government.

What could he say, though? He didn't have a job. And for those that did, well, they definitely hated the new Provisional Tech set minimizing laziness and wasted resources of workers. They were the oddest machines, their forms similar to humans that Jolan would see everyday. But yet so different.

Their bodies were all white, with blue lines running throughout to mimic limbs. By their bald forehead, a blue ring sat that pulsed without an end. Whenever Jolan took the time to look at one, he couldn't help but feel frightened. Their eyes were so... nightmarish, straight out of a horror flick where the robots were killers and not helpers. He shivered at the mere thought, just as a loud notification sound popped through his headphones.

This late? It's probably some no-life that finally found his calling, Jolan thought, a bit unenthusiastic about what he was about to read. He scrolled down the page to the comment section, laying eyes on the first impression.

"Anonymous?" Jolan recited the name of the profile, and saw that it was a default outline of a body with no face at all. He sighed, somewhat disappointed that it wasn't a girl from his school. A day would soon come, hopefully, when his rant would strike one of the girls he liked right in their heart. Just as easy as that.

Distracted in his daydream, another notification sound popped through his ears. He snapped into focus, irritated, and leaned in even further to the screen.

"Thirty minutes... Kill Order T-107?" Jolan repeated, lost in the dark. Though, he soon chuckled to himself. What drugs was this guy even on?

"Okay, okay. What else you got?" Jolan muttered, as he read through the rest of the comment. He saw only lines and barcodes scribbled about, like it was handwriting. He didn't know this forum allowed for such formatting, but what did he know. This was one of the many he hopped around at night. Hopefully, he wouldn't get banned like on the others.

There was no new comment, which was quite odd. Jolan swore he heard the notification sound of another, but that was probably late-night ears pranking him.

"You know what? Tell me more. I'm all ears," Jolan decided, and clicked on the add comment below the nonsensical one he had just read. He cracked his fingers before setting them onto the keyboard. There he went to work, the clacking of keys music to his ears as he hummed a made-up tune. When he was done, like the master typer he was, he triumphantly pressed enter, not even bothering to proofread.

His eyes stared through the foggy lenses of his glasses for a comment. He waited and waited for the notification sound to ring through his ears, followed up by another joking comment. If things kept on, he would probably be best friends with this "Anonymous," perhaps in real life, too, if they were in the same area. That was just a thought, though...

The notification sound buzzed through Jolan's ears, his eyes darting to the new comment. He leaned forever, expectant, and read it all, like an essay prompt.

"Tanencha sy Tyrin," Jolan read out loud, then fell back into his chair and laughed. "What is this even? Aztec? Incan? Baboodian?" He continued to laugh, the eerie sound of silence somehow clear in his ears. It was so strange to hear not a single sound be made but himself.

Another notification sound came, this time to silence his laughter. Jolan narrowed his eyes, a strange feeling in his gut. He didn't know what it was, nor why it was there, but he didn't like it. His interest piqued, he leaned forward to scroll down.

"Uncover the secret," the text read, strangely creepy and bizarre. Jolan heaved his shoulders and shuddered the ghastly feeling haunting him. Something didn't feel right. Was this a joke?

"Yeah, okay. I'll play your little game, only if you tell me what prescription you're on," Jolan murmured, as he typed those same words for another comment. He typed enter quickly, unable to suppress the churning in his stomach. Sweat trickled down his forehead as he waited for answer. The clock ticked by the minute, each seemingly hours or even days long. One. Two. Three.

Buzz

Jolan jolted in his chair, the notification sound a jumpscare to him. A hand planted against his chest, he read through the next comment. To his surprise, nothing was there, except for blurry words that looked like smudges against his window. Leaning in further and adjusting his lenses, he tried to decipher the message.

The computer screen suddenly faded to black, as the sound of silence creepily kept Jolan company. He looked around the room, full paranoid mode. He didn't know what just happened or why the electricity just went out-a rare occurrence for his neighborhood-but it freaked him the hell out. Maybe it was an indicator that he needed to sleep. Of course, of course. He hated the pitch-black darkness and silence. Nightmares would surely haunt him tonight about them.

As Jolan stood out of his chair, he froze. Out in the hallway, he heard the faintest of noises. His door was shut, but not locked. His eyes stared at the knob, yet his body wouldn't move.

Click. Clack

The footsteps weren't human at all. They were robotic, a clear familiarity to Jolan, who knew what it belonged to. The sounds grew louder and louder, the hairs on the back of his neck standing tall. With his breathing unregulated and swift, and hands sweaty, he knew he had to make a move.

Click. Clack

It was getting so near at such a quick rate that Jolan couldn't handle it anymore. He immediately sprinted over to the door, his hands grasping the knob. Nervously he spun the lock to the left, an immediate response soon following.

THUMP. THUMP

Jolan backed away in fear as the thumping wouldn't stop. It truly was robotic, with a deed that needed to be complete. Even the thumps were in rhythm, like the machine knew perfectly how to break in. Tears clouded his vision once he realized the harsh truth. His family was dead. His friends were dead. All those girls he had his eye on... they were also dead. He had nothing left but himself. In this lone, cold room he had lived and stayed in isolation for far too many nights.

In despair, he balled up underneath the window, cradling back and forth, an endless repetition. He wanted it to go away, he wanted to go to sleep in peace. But the thumping was endless. It would haunt him forever.

Please be a nightmare. Please be fake. Please! Jolan prayed, just as a robotic hand basked in red light smashed through his door. He yelped in fear, but he had nowhere to go, to hide. Bony fingers slapped against the door until eventually finding the knob. It gently snapped the lock to the right, which made the door fly on its hinges.

Jolan widened his eyes at the sight. The robot before him was a promise of a better future, of hope. How was this hope? This was terror. This was everything but that promise. What went wrong?

Beep. Tick. Tick

The robot marched forward, its once dead eyes now red. All of its serene blue lines were also red, as was the ring on its forehead. Every step it took forward shook Jolan, who sat there and did nothing but watch. He didn't know what to do, what to think. His mind had shut off.

The robot approached him, a bony hand gripping his neck, like a talon. It lifted him off the ground, its eyes trained onto his own. They mocked him of his near death. So cruel, so harsh. These were created to protect him, not harm him.

Boop. Beep. Tock. Tock

The robot lifelessly kept Jolan off the ground. He kicked his feet around and tried to claw his hands at the one choking him. But it was too strong. He gasped for air, yet nothing came to him. His lungs flared, his eyes burned, and all hope disappeared. All the while, the robot just stared at him. This was what it was programmed to do. It had no emotions, no choices, but to kill. That was its job, its order, rather.

A flash of light burned through the window behind Jolan and shattered at the impact. Red light pooled into the room, the robot now clad in it. Jolan's vision closed in on him, his life being drained by the second. Cold wind brushed against his back, as screams rippled through the night. The robot just stared. That's all it did. That's what haunted Jolan the most. How was something this evil and lifeless? How?

Jolan's eyes shut on their own as he fell into nothingness. He heard nothing. He felt nothing. It was just nothing. Yet, three words still paced around his mind, unable to be forgotten. Their meaning was still worthless. He had yet to figure it out, if it was the last thing he'd do before succumbing to eternal peace. He had to.

Tanencha sy Tyrin